


swimming

by doky8m



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Confusing, Crying, Drabble, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Multi, idk jungwoo crying made me sad, like i was crying while writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 22:19:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16417049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doky8m/pseuds/doky8m
Summary: sometimes jungwoo's thoughts feel like they're swimming





	swimming

**Author's Note:**

> hi :D !! im really just talking to myself bc i really dont expect anyone to read this BUT! i literally just wrote this bc ive been sad and jungwoo crying bc of the 4th regular win made me cry so i thought typing out this confusing mess was a good idea!! and it was tbh im less upset now. uhh if anyone reads this Enjoy !!
> 
>  
> 
> quick side note; this is not me psychoanalysing jungwoo !! we dont know what was going through his head at the time but this was just how i interpreted it !!  
>  
> 
> my twitter is @givencihao if anyone wants to give me that clout

It was like he was floating, really.

 

Life becoming so quick pace in just a few short months you felt like that sometimes.

 

Another win.

 

Four of them now.

 

He had barely registered the earlier performance and already here they were- hopping around huge smiles on their faces, celebrating cheerily.

 

He joins. It’s fun.

 

Quickly shuffled off the stage into a cramped room and an even more cramped couch, he’s left with his thoughts.

 

That’s never a good idea.

 

He ponders.

 

He can’t deserve this. No, not with barely being in the group for a little under two weeks. He has added nothing to the group. He's lacking. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t get to have a part in the celebration. He shouldn’t get to say the award is his.

 

Thoughts continue to swirl as nine more bodies join him on the couch. His teammates.

 

And suddenly they’re live.

 

The trophy is passed around with little speeches.

 

It gets closer.

 

He can’t do this.

 

He has it now.

 

Voice soft, he speaks. Tries to be thankful. Then the tears come.

 

He doesn’t deserve this.

 

Noise rises around him as his friends cause a ruckus to distract the audience from his tears. A tissue is handed to him. He mutters a thanks.

 

The live goes on.

 

Tears continue to drip as final speeches are made. He lets out a weak laugh at the last one.

 

It’s time to go.

 

In a matter of moments, the group of ten is outside surrounded by flashing lights. Just wanting to go home.

 

He doesn’t care anymore. The tears continue to stream down his face as thoughts swirl angrily in his head.

 

A van. Then they’re home.

 

Warm arms wrap around his waist as he’s lead to the couch.

 

Something soft is placed on his shoulders. It smells like fresh pine and honey. Johnny’s blanket. One that’s always used for times like these.

 

Comforting bodies cuddle into his sides. A leg over his lap. An arm clasping another’s hand over his chest.

 

Salty tears pour down his face quicker now.

 

Sweet nothings are whispered into his ears by a soothing voice as his eyelids get heavy.

 

Kisses. On his cheeks. One on his forehead from someone he can’t see. Lips from the two boys cuddled into his sides running up and down his neck.

 

There’s nothing to worry about anymore.

 


End file.
